


The Government or LSD, Scientists Can't Tell

by Pandaland123



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: First Meetings, LSD, M/M, Pre-Relationship, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 04:16:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16569464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandaland123/pseuds/Pandaland123
Summary: What Clint says next though is very far from anything Phil had expected."I need to blow up your apartment,"Or : Phil returns home to find Barton, an agent he doesn't know all that well, in his house.





	The Government or LSD, Scientists Can't Tell

Its a while after Clint starts working for shield that Phil first meets him outside of work. Their previous conversations had been brief and always about a mission or behavioural problems. Phil isn't really sure why Clint seems determined to piss off every handler he has, in fact, he doesn't really know much of anything about him. He knows he was in the circus, he knows about Barney, he knows about the car crash, he's read his file ten times over, but that doesn't really tell him anything about the man himself.

From their few fleeting conversations he's learnt that Clint has a strong sense of humour, but that he can also be quite serious when the time is right. Sometimes he sees him, standing around the shield base and he can't help but wonder about him. If he catches himself checking him out a few times, well, no one really needs to know about that.

That's why he's rather surprised, and rightly so, to find Clint standing in his living room when he enters his apartment.

Silhouetted by the moon, shinning through the open window, is the one and only Clint Barton. Despite the light breeze nipping at his skin through his neatly pressed button up, it is not the cold that causes shivers to run down his spine.

"Barton?" Phil asks, dropping his bag to the floor, ready to defend himself should anything happen.

"Coulson," Clint nods, not sparring Phil even a glance, completely focused on the floor of the apartment.

Phil wonders if this is anything like those 'behavioural issues' that everyone keeps talking about. Breaking and entering is a little more than a behavioural issue in his book though and he should hope the others members of SHIELD feel the same.

"You're in my apartment," Phil points out the obvious, hoping Clint will give him something, anything really to determine how to handle this situation.

"I am," Clint states, like this is a perfectly normal thing to do. Phil hopes that this isn't a regular thing of his.

"Why?" Phil goes for something a little more direct this time, seeing as Clint doesn't seem as inclined to give him a hint.

Finally, finally, Clint looks up at him. He's squinting and his nose has turned a soft pink colour from the cold. His hair is sticking up and out all over the place, looking even less well-kept than usual. What Clint says next though is very far from anything Phil had expected.

"I need to blow up your apartment,"

Phil, despite feeling somewhat shocked and unsure where to go with this, remains stoic. As a member of SHIELD he should always expect the unexpected. Even if this had never happened before and he had never really considered it. Who would?

I wonder if a strange man, who I've seen around my work once or twice, will break into my house tonight and try to blow it up?

This was an... Exceptional circumstance.

"Why?" Phil pushes on, trying to go with the flow.

"I'm worried," Is all Clint says.

"About?"

Clint whips around and grumbles, angrily, "What is this? Twenty questions?"

"You want to blow my house up, I think I can ask as many questions as I like," Phil counters, watching as the angry set in Clint's jaw goes slack and his shoulders fall, as if giving up. On what, Phil didn't know, but he took it as a good sign.

"That's not fair. I don't want to blow your house up..." Clint sighs, scuffing his boots against the wooden floor. "I need to,"

"I'm sure that whatever the problem is, my apartment can stay perfectly intact whilst we solve it,"

Phil takes a slow, but sure, step forward. When Clint doesn't move he takes another and then another. Until he's within reaching distance.

"What happened?"

"I'm not crazy, okay?" Clint tells him, he leans in a little when he says it, as if they are conspiring to commit treason or something of the like. Phil stares blankly, unknowing as to what is about to happen. "Remember, I- I'm not crazy,"

"You're not crazy, now if you could just tell me-" Phil starts, but he's cut off before he can say much more.

"The government are after me," Clint says it so seriously and still Phil can't tell if he's kidding or not. He even lowered his voice and shuffled a little closer as if afraid someone might hear.

"And this has what to do with my house?" Phil asks, clearly unimpressed.

"You think I'm crazy!" Clint accuses. They stare each other down for a moment, Clint's eyes wide with accusations and looking like he hadn't slept in a year. Silence falls like a blanket over them, stuffed with tension instead of feathers. Phil almost feels like he's holding his breath, drowning in the eyes of a crazy man.

That's what Clint is. Absolutely bonkers, but still breathtakingly beautiful in the moonlight.

"I think that you just told a member of the government about the fact the government is after you," Phil knows this may not be the right thing to say, but the words are out before he can help himself.

Thing is, instead of getting all skittish and shouting again, Clint laughs. A smile of pure joy on his face as he stares at Phil.

"You're really nice," Clint mumbles, his smile turning to more of a dopey grin. He's swaying a little on his feet.

Clint stumbles forward a little and for the first time that evening, Phil notices the way his pupils seem to be dilated. Before he can really has the time to think about it though, Clint is throwing himself at him. Wrapping his arms around Phil in a part-hug part-draping-his-limbs-all-over-him.

Phil is thrown even further by his abnormally high body temperature despite the apartment being colder than when he showed up.

"Uh..." Phil doesn't really know what to do in this situation. He's sort of expecting Clint to stab him in the back at any moment. Instead, Clint mumbles sleepily,

"'m tired,"

"As long as you don't try to burn my house down, you can sleep on my couch," Phil tells him, unsure if letting him leave in this state was a wise idea.

"Okay," Clint says in a quiet voice as Phil lowers him down onto the couch. He starts to try to extract Clint's limbs from his own, but Clint only clings on harder.

"I need to sleep too," Clint ignores Phil, simply not letting go. "I need to go to bed,"

"Don't go," Clint whines.

"I can't sleep on the couch,"

"Then I'll sleep in your bed," Phil doesn't get the chance to object because Clint is using Phil to pull himself back up and honestly, for such a small guy he's rather heavy. When they are finally stood, Clint makes no move to go anywhere, simply rests his head against Phil's chest and begins to lightly doze.

"We can't sleep here," Phil deadpans, waiting for Clint to do just about anything. Clint, as expected, doesn't, too tired to really think about what the hell is going on. "Fine," Phil huffs, wrapping his arms around Clint and lifting him off the ground. Not prepared for the sudden move, Clint lets out a small protest, but otherwise lets Phil do whatever he wants.

Phil doesn't really know what he's doing at this point. Barton, a man he barely knows, is in his apartment and he's about to let him sleep in his bed. This was certainly a turn of events that Phil had not expected. Not that he minded all that much, it was much more exciting than his usual evening. Standing, alone, in the dark of his apartment, looking for something to eat despite knowing that he didn't have any food in the house (except that carton of congealed milk and a mouldy slice of cake). Spending his time looking through the stack of manila folders he had left in his bag.

He drops Clint down on the bed and rolls on himself, whilst Clint simply clings on for dear life, eyes still shut. Phil thinks this whole experience might have been better than he first thought it was. Maybe, just maybe, he and Barton could at least become to be friends after this.

He hopes so.


End file.
